Her bottom was so sore, she could hardly walk and her blue dress was covered with dust. As she limped down Main Street of this settlement, she made up an excuse about how a passing wagon had given her a lift. Damn that Texan, anyhow.
Larado galloped into the Rock Creek camp and dismounted. Dixie waited there on this cool morning. She wore a tight red dress, and there was a rented buggy tied to a nearby tree.
“You seen anything of Snake?” he asked.
“No.” Her painted face seemed guarded.
“Well, he told me to meet him here. We’re in a real mess, Dixie. With that buckshot he took in the arm, I was afraid he might not make it.”
She didn’t seem too concerned about her lover’s health. “Looks like you got all the money.”
He shrugged. “Reckon I got some.”
“Hell, to tell the truth, cowboy, he’s already been here and gone. You and me ought to skedaddle together.”
Larado swore under his breath and shook his head. “I didn’t reckon he’d double-cross me. What’d he say?”
“Not much. Gone off to find a doctor, I reckon. Told me to tell you he hadn’t showed up, and he’d meet up with me later.”
Larado tied his horse to a tree, took the bank bag, and tossed it onto the ground by the fire. “Hell, I never meant to get mixed up in no bank robbery. It just happened. Now we got a posse after us.”
Her blue eyes gleamed as she picked up the bank bag. “Kinda light—you get away with much?”
“Reckon it’s all bills.” Larado sighed as he knelt by the fire and poured himself a cup of coffee from the big tin pot. “I don’t aim to keep it. I was gonna talk to Snake about straightenin’ this out by returnin’ it.”
“You must be loco,” she sneered. “You get away with bank cash and you want to turn it back? Think of what this could buy, Larado.”
“But I ain’t a crook,” he said. “I don’t think Snake intended for this to happen.”
“You don’t know Snake. He get much?”
“He got one bag, just like me. There’s a posse maybe on my trail, Dixie, you should clear out.”
“Go with me. Don’t you want to know where Snake’s gone?”
He shook his head. “Reckon if he’d double-cross me, it don’t matter. I’m gonna figure out how to return this loot and head back to Texas.”
She ran her tongue slowly over her lips. Her scarlet dress was so tight, it showed her voluptuous curves. “Take me with you, Larado.”
“What? I thought you was Snake’s gal.”
She shrugged, coming over and to look up at him. “I liked what I got the other night. You and I could be a pair.”
Before he could speak, she slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him—a long, lingering, sensual kiss that made him gasp in surprise and drop his coffee cup. For a moment he wanted to grab her, throw her down on the blanket by the campfire, and take her right then, knowing how warm and ripe she would be. Then he saw the image in his mind of a tall brunette in a dark blue dress staring up at him as he took the horse and rode away. He reckon he owed that Lark girl an apology. Maybe when he went back to return the money, he’d hunt her down and explain how everything happened.
He reached up and untangled Dixie’s arms from around his neck. “This ain’t right, Dixie.”
She laughed, a hard, brittle laugh. “Neither is robbin’ a bank. You remind me of a gambler I used to know, Larado, a man I really cared about. Take me with you and I’ll make you glad you did.”
“Naw, can’t do that.” He pushed his Stetson back. “I’m broke and there’s a posse lookin’ for me. I ain’t gonna add to my troubles by stealin’ Snake’s girl.”
“Are you loco?” she demanded as she confronted him. “I told you he’s already deserted you, probably figurin’ the posse will find this camp soon enough.”
“I’m a Texan, Dixie, I’m as good as my word.”
She said something obscene, walked over, and picked up the bank bag. “Well, let’s just see how much you got away with.”
“Won’t do you no good, I ain’t keepin’ it.”
She ignored him and pulled the drawstring, shaking the bag. When she did, a bundle of cut newspaper fell out in a shower and fluttered to the ground. “What the—?”
Larado strode over and knelt by her side, picking up a fistful of paper. “This can’t be. Why would a bank keep chopped paper in their safe?”
Dixie shrugged. “Well, I reckon the joke is on you, Larado. You didn’t steal no money after all.”
He wiped his face with his bandana. “Hell, that’s a relief. Maybe when the banker tells them we didn’t get no cash, it’ll all be a big joke.”
“I wouldn’t count on it. You think Snake’s bag has real money in it?”
“How would I know?” Larado shrugged. “Didn’t he open it while he was here?”
“Uh, no, he was in too big a hurry.”
“Then he’s the one you’d better go with, Dixie. He may be a rich man.”
She favored him with a smile. “It don’t make no never mind, cowboy, I’d still rather go with you.”
He shook his head again. “Sorry, sweetie, but one can travel faster than two, and I’m broke. Since I didn’t steal no money, I reckon I’ll ride on to Texas and lose myself down there. When you see Snake, tell him about the fake bills, will you? I wouldn’t want him to think I tried to cheat him.”
“Oh, you Texans. I don’t know whether you’re stupid or too principled to live.” She gave him a beseeching look. “I ain’t known many men with principles, Larado. Take me with you. I promise you won’t regret it.”
He was already striding to his horse. “There’s a posse lookin’ for me, so you don’t need trouble like that. I’m givin’ you some advice; clear out before that posse shows up. Go back to town and wait for Snake to find you. And when you see that tall Texas gal….”
“Yes?”
He mounted up. “It don’t make no never mind. I reckon she’s mad as a rained-on hen for the trouble I caused her.”
“You mean about losin’ her job?”
He paused, pushed his hat back. “No, about this mornin’. What about her job?”
“Oh, you didn’t know? Joe fired her last night.”
“That’s a damned shame. Why did he do that?”
She wasn’t about to tell him about the cat fight. “For pourin’ beer on you. She was a lousy barmaid. So long, Larado. If you ever change your mind, I’ll probably be right here workin’ at the Last Chance unless something better comes along.”
He nodded to her, turned his horse, and loped away.
Dixie stood there watching him until he was a dot on the far horizon. She could have cared about the lanky cowboy—only the second man she’d cared about in a long string of men that began when she was a ragged girl in Atlanta. Dixie was the bastard child of a Yankee soldier and a desperate slut from a Georgia cotton patch. Dixie’s whole life had been a battle to survive.